Depths of the Memory Palace
by fireandice
Summary: Just a what if story and how it might be handled between the lovely couple.


Disclaimer: All the usuals. Hannibal and Clarice will be polished when I'm through with them and given back to Thomas Harris with their bows on. Thanks and enjoy  
  
Note: This is set almost one year to date from the Chesapeake incident. I thought it was a really great idea as I sat down to right it, but it, like many other story ideas, never materialize the way I first invision them. When it comes time to put it on paper, it seems I can never find the right words or ending. But please, enjoy it nonetheless.  
  
  
I.  
  
One year. A single solitary orbit of the earth around the monstorous sun. This passing happens every 365 days. While the day that was approaching in Starling's mind wasn't exactly the day one normaly associates as being the earth's annual trip around the sun, this was the only date of importance to her.  
  
On one week it would be a year since Clarice M. Starling had experienced a life altering event; her metamorphisis from FBI Agent Starling to Clarice, woman of the free world, had long since been completed. And now, with Hannibal Lecter at her side, she felt more free and independent than she had ever felt in her life. She felt this despite the fact very few hours were ever spent away from his side, and she perfered to keep it that way.  
  
Hannibal Lecter sat in the drawing room, perusing several medical journals he had picked up the day before at one of his many post office boxes. This was one of the few hours spent without the company of his beloved Clarice. For is she was present, he would never finish the first aricle.  
  
This year had also brought about a metamorphosis in Hannibal too. Lecter had learned to express himself and his love for Clarice in ways he had never thought possible. He had also learned to live one day at a time, in the moment and for the moment; the wishes of Clarice.  
  
Still there wre doubts. hannibal knew the first year would be the biggest test. Once that anniversary had passed, if Clarice was still the same, he knew she would never go back. But somewhere there was always the doubt that Clarice wold awaken from her life with him and snap back into Starling mode. In his mind and heart he knew there was no way he would be able to take it emotionally if she secided to return. How he would stop her, he wasn't sure but stop he he must, at all costs; determination had set in. Hannibal Lecter would watch her very carefully the next few days.  
  
II.  
  
Clarice and Hannibal were sitting on the terace, enjoying their breakfast at noon. True, it was late to be having breakfast, but they never started the day off without it. As Clarice sat in the sunlight, she began to travel down her expanding memory palace. Most of her past life had been closed off in a remote section of the palace. This was done so that she wouldn't have to be reminded of the anguish that it had caused her. The good memories though, had been carefully polished and placed upon the mantle for frequent viewing.  
  
Walking down the expansive, arching hallways that smelled of fesh lavender, Clarice stopped to take a moment and admire something new. Standing next to a staircase leading downwards was a statue that didn't appear to be too familure. Standing before her was a eight foot tall bronze statue of Achilies, clad in his elaborate warrior's armor. But there was just one flaw: an aroow was protruding from the ankle, blood soaked. This had to have been an installment of Lecter, for Clarice knew she wouldn't have placed such a thing in here.  
  
As she passes the statue and proceeded down the stairs, her surroundins changed. The little amount of light that was shed down the narrow hallway was begining to fade. Indeed, something was very unfamilure here as Clarice was used to seeing well-lit foyers and passageways. This was nothing life the rest of her palace. Suddenlt, Clarice was in complete dearkness. She could feel the walls closing in on her as the passage got more narrow as she continued. Then, she pulled out a flashlight to continur on her way, and as the area was lit up around her, she realized she was now in a cave. The walls brown and wet. The air damp and the floor slippery.  
  
Standing in the cave, she took a moment, devoid of breathing to take in her surroundings and completly adjust. In the instant before her next breath was to be taken, it happened.  
  
The faintest of a noise was heard, but it was there. The sound seemed to come from deep within the black abyss of the cave yet was unmistakable. As Claice realized the origin and what the sound ment to her, she began to tremble and felt wask in her legs. It had been a sound she thought she'd never hear again: D below middle C.  
  
Meanwhile in the real world, something very significant was also occuring. While Clarice bearly heard it in her memory palace, she quickly snapped back to reality. Looking in front of her she saw Hannibal staring at the floor. As she joined his point of view she noticed that a tea cup had broken to pieces.  
  
Hannibal just sat there motionless in his chair, watching the pieces. It had truely been an accident, and when the pieces never moved, he was truely satisfied. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to Lecter, but for the breifest of moments Clarice could have sworn the tea cup jumped off the floor and put its self back together on the talbe. She quickly pushed the image out of her head, wishing it never to return.  
  
III.  
  
The rest of the day, Clarice seemed somewhat shy toward Hannibal. This was not something that was hard for Lecter to detect, as she had been all too quiet after the tea cup incident. Now it was dinner time and the servants were long gone. The couple sat somewhat close yet had more distance between them than normal. Clarice sat staring off into the nothingness, methodically chewing as she poked at ther food with the fork.  
  
"Clarice, what are you thinking?"  
  
When Clarice chose not to respond, Lecter chose not to persue and accepted her silence. In fact, Clarice was afraid to answer. She wasn't sure what she would say to him and certainly didn't want him to know of the incident that had occured earlier.  
  
IV.  
  
Another day passed and the situation hadn't changed. The tension ws growing tighter for the first time between them.  
  
"I hate to suggest this Clarice, but for the time, I think it best. I think we should spend tomorrow apart. You don't exactly seem yourself and it feels as though you need some time to sort something out. I'll trust you can get things in order."  
  
"Actually, I have to agree with you. I really need some time to myself, just to think."  
  
Clarice had been releaved in his suggestion. She didn't want to be around him anymore than she had to in her current state. Knowing she couldn't lie to him, she knew she couldn't keep her inner conflicts from him for very long.  
  
The next day, after an unusal early breakfast, the two went seperate ways. While Clarice headed off for the park, Lecter decided to first visit the museum. Not surprisingly, everything he saw there reminded him of Clarice, or places they had been or should visit together. Shortly he had had enough and returned home to his sacred study room. Here he was again plauged by thoughts of Clarice. The incident the other night was not just an odd moment. Some underlying condition had caused Clarice to act as she did. Perhaps it was the tea cup triggering an old memory. What if she changes? What if she can't make it back?  
  
All these thoughts bounded thunderously off Lecter's head. It ws then he found pen and paper.  
  
Meanwhile, Clarice sat on a park bench, in almost complete utter silence. Perhaps it really wasn't that quiet, but rather a reflection of the blackness in her head. Sitting there, breathing in the cool Florentine air, she began to think.  
  
What's happening to me? I love him. I love him. I love him. Don't I? Clarice! Pull it together, of course you love him. How could you not beleive you do. All right, I do love him. What about Ardelia? I've been so unfair to her. I can't have my cake and eat it too, though. Look what I've done. I've ran away from the one thing I had sworn to protect. That vow, also, to my father. When the tough got tough, I got going. I've failed my father, despite the lack of suport I was recieving. I should have been stronger. Never can I uphold his legacy, unless.....  
  
Clarice shuddered at the thought, and the thoughts continued. By the end of the day, her head felt swollen like a cow's belly and ached from all the thinking. She was now more confused than ever before. As she returned home and began to open the front door, she noticed a letter lying on the front step. Looking closer, she also noticed it was addressed to her in the all too familure copperplate hand.  
  
Dearest Clarice  
  
This week iv'e undoubtedly watched a change overcome you. But before the butterfly is to emerge, there is another state of metamorphosis yet set to occur. The outcome is uncertain.  
  
I know what your thinking. I think the same things of you. The tea cup had an effect on you, but was there more than that? I suppose so.  
  
You and only you my dear hold the destiny to the butterfly. Need I remind you what has failed you time and time again despite your respect, honor and love for it? Nor should I have to remind you what has been there for you despite any shortcoming. I promise you, you'll always have what you found on the shores of the Chessapeake.  
  
Love,  
Hannibal  
  
Lying next to the letter had been a single long stem red rose. This letter only caused her to become more engulfed by the abyss of her confusion, as it pushed her toward all the loyalty she felt toward Hannibal. It had not quite had the effect Lecter had planned though. This was easily sensed by him as he sat in the back on the living room undetected, watching her read.   
  
V.  
  
Clarice wondered on throughout the house onto the kitchen. There, she promptly opened a bottle of sweet red wine and poured it into the first wine galss she could find, and begain to sip from it.  
  
"Is everything settled Clarice?"  
  
The sound of his voice and nature of the question almost caused her to drop the fine crystal.   
  
With her back turned to him, she replied, "Yea...Yes. Everything's settled."  
She knew better than to lie, bnut thought that somehow she could make herself believe it to be true.  
  
"Hmmmm... Yes, it appears so."   
As he turned to leave the kitchen, "Dinner wil be in an hour."  
Walking back to his study, he knew why Clarice had lied. Tonight he was hoping to help her make up her mind, no matter the consequences. It would be a danger for the both of them to have her around if she slipped back to Agent Starling.  
  
VI.  
  
Inside, Clarice was dying. Inside the same space that used to fill her soul, the deaths of a thousand moths was occuring. Along with the carcases lining her sould, there was also a dark, cold, murky water which appeared to be choking off her life line. Something had to give before the pressure grew too immense. But for now, she had to prepare him mind for dinner.  
  
Dinner passed rather quickly for the two, with a light conersation playing off the wall. Everything was going all right. For the moment. After dinner, Clarice and Hannibal retired to the couch and cuddled. For a moment or two, Clarice forgot all about her inner demons as she relaxed in Lecter's arms. Then suddenly she had a mental image of her dead father. Lecter, feeling the tensing of her entire body, lightly pushed her down on the couch and began to kiss her. As he massaged her lips with his own, he bit her. Not that he had never bit her before, but this time there was a considerable amount of blood flowing from her bottom lip.  
  
"That's a little rough." Clarice's body never relaxed again, as a little caution flag raised in her mind.  
  
"You never seemed to mind before dear."  
  
"Yeah, but that's too rough."  
  
"Too rough..." Lecter let out a light chuckle. " Clarice, you haven't even began to imagine."  
  
With that, Clarice tried to get up and then realized Lecter had her pinned down.  
  
"What are you doing? Where do you think your going?"  
  
The pinwheels had started turning in Hannibal's hard eyes. For the first time, Clarice was actually afraid.  
  
"Now, it's time for a little game of truth. I'm going to ask you questions, your going to give me the truth. Fear. You're feeling it aren't you?"  
  
As he asked that last question, Clarice felt the coldness of the sharp harpy blade run down her arm, causing her to shiver.  
  
"Y..Y..Yes," she barely managed.  
  
":Good. Now, tell me. What's going on? You've been thinking lately haven't you, about your future and past and if your past is in your future. Please do make an effort to respond."  
  
Clarice didn't actually think he would kill her, but the knife wasn't calming her down any.  
  
"Ye..y..y..Yes. I heard it. The string. And uh, the tea cup. Yes. I saw the tea cup."  
  
Lecter could feel her body somewhat going limp.   
  
"Ah, I see. And if you return, if you go back to that lost AGENT inside you, do you think I'd let you stay, knowing the harm it will cause the both of us? Hmmm...???"  
  
" No, yes.. No..I don't know. I don't know what's going on. It's a year tonight. You know that. Your not helping me. I knew this would come. It's something I have to face. The thoughts of abandoning everything I once had...."  
  
"Aw Clarice..truely touching. But what has your past done for you?" The blade was now sneaking around her chest and neck. One little cut on the shoulder, the left. "The past has done nothing except to drag you down a road of disaster in which they stole everything that ever made you pure, made you you."  
  
When the blade cut Clarice on her shoulder, it brought back memories. The cut wasn't deep at all, just simply to remind her of that night.  
  
"Yes, yes I know. And now all I can think is...It brought me to you..... I, I love you Hannibal. Help me. Help me."  
  
With her sweet voice, crying out in desperation, saying his name, saying I love you, asking get help, Lecter melted like hot butter in the sautee pan. As quickly as the knife had appeared it was thrown across the floor. Lecter wrapped Clarice up in a long passionate kiss, and then licked the tears from her face.  
  
VII.  
  
In the months that followed, there were many days spent much as their first days together had been spent. They sat in a room, with a single light source. Sometimes hypnosis was used, but not often. Hannibal did his best to help her defeat all the demons of her past, knowing if he could get her past this, they would never have to go through this again.  
  
  
Well guys, that's it. The ending lacked something to be desired I'm sure. If you guys have any suggestions, a ray of light for me, I could re write the ending and make it better. It's so hard to write for these type things when there are so many possibilities in the endings. I gave it my best for the moment, I really did. I hope you guys enjoyed.  
  
  
  



End file.
